Disastrous Dragon
by Perpetual Thoughts and Meaning
Summary: Very slow DMHG with few clichés... "For some reason, people see us as acquaintances..." "They're imbeciles if they think so," he told her icily, "that is just pure rubbish."
1. Prologue

Characters borrowed by: **Perpetual Thoughts and Meaning**__

**  
  
Disastrous Dragon **

"_There's a shadow just behind me, shrouding every step I take, making every promise empty, pointing every finger at me. Waiting like a stalking butler who upon the finger rests._"- _Sober_, by **Tool**

Prologue--

Draco's POV__

Mother had been out of it, but I didn't ever think she was daft or messed up in the head, I just thought she hadn't eaten much. Well, when she locked herself up in her room, I knew then she had gone off the deep end…  
  
So, I decided to tell the elves to give her food, and I realised a startling fact.  
  
"Th-the missus said she wasn't hungry," Twinkie stuttered, and I could see him twitching from my glare.  
  
"Did she say anything else?" I asked him, and the house elf shook his head, and I wandered away from him into the dining room, desperate to find anything meaningful to destroy.  
  
_Damn it, she's starving herself! _I had realised, and gazed briefly into the open window at the bleeding wound in the sky, crimson mixing with yellow, bathing the trees with an eerie glow.  
  
I inhaled shakily in my nose as I searched the room for something that mattered if I destroyed it, and I finally found the perfect thing.  
  
It was an antique ivory sculpture of an angel, one in which the angel was holding a real wreath of flames. It had been beckoning me since I was five, and as I grasped my fingers around it, I paid mind to the dancing flames, eyeing the antique carefully.  
  
"Say goodbye, I hope you can sacrifice your life for my mum's…" I whispered my prayer to it before chucking it into the dining room wall, where the flames gained a life of their own on a new house elf, I hadn't learnt its name yet, but when I strolled over to it, almost merrily, I saw it was burnt to the bone, it had been boiled alive, it's gaping eyes would haunt me until my dying days, its pillow case almost burnt off.  
  
I took one of the crosses from a cabinet mum had kept all her religious things in, and laid the bulky golden cross over where I supposed the house elf's heart was, turned my back to it, and rested my head on the hard wall, my breath coming in short pants.  
  
"Mum, I don't want you to do suicide," I whispered, closing my eyes tightly, swallowing down my tears.  
  
_Mum was always happy, she wasn't much of a pessimist, and she was usually optimistic…  
  
_"She loved him so much, and to have lost him…" I released a long sigh.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy!"  
  
I opened my eyes and settled them on Twinkie the house elf, and I arched my eyebrows at the humanistic expression of fear on his face.  
  
"What?" I asked lazily, and I realised the elf was panicking.  
  
"Miss Malfoy just said she left the mansion and everything to you--"  
  
"SHIT!"  
  
I barely heard the rest the elf said, because I was running up the stairs, just hoping I wasn't too late, but my realistic mind had already told me…  
  
_Dead, probably blood…  
  
_"Mum…"  
  
I heard such horrid cries of pain from behind her large door, and I felt my eyes widening, and I pushed my ear to the wood, and listened in, my breath shallow and deep. I was afraid…  
  
"Damn bloody dagger!"  
  
That voice… No, it was too distressed, too full of emotion…  
  
"Mum," I tried again, and I heard no sounds after that, and I felt something sticky under my socked feet, and I glanced down to see I was standing under a crimson lake, which was coming from the crack under her door…  
  
"Go," her crackly voice commanded, but I had no choice, I kicked down the door, and walked inside her room, despite the aching in my feet and my mum…  
  
She had been crying-- the trails were clear on her pale face, and I took a small step toward her, reaching my hand toward her small figure.  
  
Her once pure white dress was crimson in places, and she had torn the sleeves off, and my eyes ran across the tracks, bumps, scrapes, cuts, and scratches she inflicted upon herself.  
  
"Mother-- what have you done?" someone's crackly voice whispered, full of dread and obvious worries. It took me a moment to realise that had been **me**.  
  
"I'm giving up, Draco."  
  
"Mother…" I whispered, and she gazed up at me, her chocolate eyes aloof before they rolled to the back of her head.  
  
_I was too late… _I thought, and gazed tearfully down at her, scooping her up into my arms and carrying her out of her dwelling and walked steadily down the stairs, choking down the hot bile that possessed my throat.  
  
"Is she all right?" Twinkie asked, and I blinked away my tears and glanced over at him, a furious rage suddenly possessing me.  
  
"SHE WOULDN'T BE DEAD IF YOU HADN'T TOLD ME EARLIER!!"  
  
Twinkie twitched, and I stomped into the living room, placing her upon the green couch, breathing in deeply, the bile becoming harder to choke down.  
  
She was dead.  
  
_No, she can't…  
  
Suicide, we'd have to be in obscurity…  
  
No-- me…  
  
_I was an orphan…  
  
"S-sir, I didn't find out until now," he stammered, and I clenched my teeth, my fists balled tightly, and I couldn't stop the hot tears came flowing.  
  
I turned to mum, bending down to stare into her chocolate eyes.  
  
"Mother."  
  
Her mouth wasn't going to open ever again, and while staring at her I realised that.  
  
"I love you, Draco…"  
  
I barely heard it, but she had said it-- she loved me…  
  
I collapsed to my knees, taking her cold hand in mine, sobbing softly.

****

Two years later, Hogwarts, Draco's 7th year, normal POV

She was his one and only hate, she was the only person that drove him to insanity. She was the only person that made him want to hurt someone; she was the only person that made him want to hurt himself. Yet, she never noticed. Her laughter was a barrier to his cold hatred and he was repelled against her by her invisible barrier. She was the garlic; he was the vengeance-filled vampire wanting to destroy it.

She drove him to a drunken insanity; fire whiskey almost downed every night, trying to forget her laugh, her smile, and her gracefulness…

She never knew, ever. She only thought of him as the 'pure-blooded boy that was the bane of her existence' and he was glad, because he felt the same.

Moreover, she always did something to him, something that no one ever did. She made him cross when he had been playing around with his friends just mere moments before.

In addition, as the rain caressed his cheeks, he felt no remorse at all when he saw her with her friend. Touching, snogging, all intimate-like, in the Great Hall in front of everyone. She was not afraid at all, not frightened of what people might think... That only disgusted Draco further.

He knew what they called her now: "such a sluttish whore, almost worse than Parkinslut, the Queen of Flashing!" It seemed like his ex, Pansy was going to lose her crown, and Granger was not even half as good-looking!

Draco always put these things out of proportion, but he heard many rumours, and he had an odd pang to tell him to stop them. He had never heard Hermione Granger and those words in any sentence, but he once saw the girl snogging her boyfriend in the hall. Gryffindors, with their odd ways of showing affection...

Of course, when he stormed into the conversation, he would slap the girls and insult their ways. Telling them they should not start such gossip about their own kind, and would walk calmly away, as if he owned the place.

The rumours would become gradually worse, and would involve him and the Mudblood, so that when his father found out, he had the decency of cornering him about it where no one would see. Lucius knew his son better than might think-- they had a very tight connection.

"You and the mudblood girl?" he would calmly ask, and Draco would shake his blond head; his grey eyes fathomless.

"No, I don't feel anything toward her but anger, nothing else," he said firmly, his lips pursed in a straight line.

"Just be careful, the whore could do something, she even has some of the Slytherins falling for her. I know you saw your cousin gazing at her. Don't end up like that; we need to keep purity of blood in mind."

His father would lecture him, but Draco did not mind. He actually enjoyed his short time with his father-- he admired him, wanted to be exactly like him, and would not change that for the world. Everyone knew that, and he was proud.

"She's with that blond Ravenclaw anyway," Draco said coolly, interlacing his fingers and walking around the outside of the Great Hall doors.

"It makes me worried… Just don't fall for her-- we all know how you are with brunettes… Why won't you get back together with Pansy? You two seemed happy together in 5th year," his father commented, and Draco let out an exasperated sigh.

"Father, Pansy was snogging every sex-crazed male in school, and in fact she still is. A Malfoy can't be with someone with her kind of attitude," Draco pointed out rather bluntly, and his father scowled.

"Let's see... Perfect. How about you seduce Granger, then break her flimsy Gryffindor spirit by dumping her?"

"Father, that is the most idiotic plan you've come up with since-" Draco stopped himself from mentioning Tom Riddle's diary and the incident with the Weasley bitch.

"Just do it," his father snapped, and strode much as Draco would, out of the building calm and relaxed though Draco sensed he was worried.

Lucius Malfoy was _never _worried; he had barely shown any emotion since Draco's 5th year, when he had been sent to Azkaban. Even if it was only a week, Narcissa had committed suicide, and Draco had bribed the Ministry to take pity upon them for their loss, thus Lucius was released.

Draco put on his best mask, released a huge breath, and pushed open the doors to the Great Hall. He was welcomed by stares, glares, and fixed expressions of curiosity.

****

TBC

Hullo... I hope you enjoyed the prologue as much as I did writing it! Why don't you review and tell me what you think about this new version? Yes, I said new _version. This was once another story called 'Life as the Abnormal One.' Oh, and could you please note I'm turning thirteen on the 16th of this month? Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter one

Characters borrowed by: **Perpetual Thoughts and Meaning**

Disastrous Dragon

"_Someone told me once that there's a right and wrong, and that punishment would come to those who dare to cross the line_..."- Jerk-off, **Tool**

Chapter One: _Such a Nuisance!_

"_7th year, crafty, smart enough to outfox a Ravenclaw, even Granger_…"

"_He's only a Prefect but he made a 128 on a test Granger flunked on_…"

"_He looks rather dashing, doesn't he_? _Why wouldn_'_t Granger choose him_?_ Hell-- I would_!"

"_He's so pureblooded even _I'm _crying_!"

He could just hear them whispering, whispering such rumours, agonisingly untrue things about him, things that he always ignored.

Draco was far from handsome, but he was undoubtedly strong and ruthless… Every rumour about him was far from true, those imbeciles just put their rumours out of proportion.

He had pale blond hair that was slicked back, his skin was pale as paper, but his grey eyes were somehow always against him. Every day they were filled with some kind of emotion that he resented against, he was meant to cool, aloof, but people like his teacher Snape noticed easily. He never told a lie-- he always told the truth, bold-faced, emotionless, and always was precise in every action. He was muscular, and had rugged features, and his hair flowed down to his shoulders, held back with a silver ribbon, but he wasn't handsome enough to be _obsessed_ over.

Draco wanted to be with his father and serve Voldemort, and he already had the Dark Mark pushed into his skin with needles, just below his main veins, and he hadn't even flinched.

People knew his reputation, his whole being, his whole life dream was to be in the Dark Arts, and Draco laughed when people called him 'the son of all things dark' and _actually_ took it as a complement. Draco loved reading as well, and when the mudblood wasn't in the library, he was taking his Prefect status as an advantage to reading everything he could have his grasp on.

They all hated him, it seemed, and Draco was proud enough to ignore it, and wave a hand at their protestant stares, and sit down noisily between Crabbe and Goyle.

"Huh? Draco, are you all right?" that blubbering idiot Goyle would ask, and Draco glanced over at him, scowling heatedly.

"I'm fine," he answered, and just stared at his turkey, his grey eyes clouded with grief.

He missed his mum, believe it or not, he was actually still depressed, and he wasn't in any mood to eat.

"Really? Because you don't look like it-"

"I said I was fine, _Vincent_," Draco spat out, and his fellow Slytherins gave him a few incredulous glances.

Even if his "friends" were idiots, they knew him enough to tell he was thinking hard about something, something they would never take a grasp upon in decades.

"Draco, we know you're still depressed, but can't you just forget?"

"You don't know how it is to lose someone that influenced you so greatly," he muttered finally, and Crabbe and Goyle shared a saddened look.

"Wouldn't your mum-"

"Just shut up," he muttered, resting his head upon the table.

"Draco-"

"I said just shut-" Draco glanced up to see everyone from his table had stopped talking and were staring fixedly at him. "What the bleeding hells are you lot **gaping** at?" he practically screamed, and pushed his seat physically from the table and stood without a backward glance and practically stormed out of the hall, his face contorted in anger.

"They'll never understand me," he muttered under his breath as he headed toward the dungeons, his fists balled up, his manicured nails causing blood to flow from his palms, his face flushed from his previous outcry.

"Filthy mudbloods," Draco spat out the password when he reached the portrait of Salazar, and climbed into the common room, and let out an aggravated groan before the tears came flooding.

****

…

"Mum, it hasn't been the same without you," he was mumbling in his sleep, tossing and turning feverishly, incoherent to his cousin's booming voice telling him to arise.

"Stop dreaming about your dead beat mother and get your lazy arse up!" he was practically screaming in his ear.

Draco's eyelids fluttered, and he looked into the pale face of his brunette cousin, Blaise Zabini.

"Go fuck yourself, Zabini," he snapped coldly, and pushed his cousin away from him and onto the floor. Draco crawled out of his bed and reached for his wand.

"Potions starts in fifty minutes, Malfoy," Blaise was saying as he himself stood up and brushed very visible lint from his robes.

"**So**? Snape let's me off… Just get out of my face or I'll knock you so far off your arse you'll end up in next Tuesday," Draco said in a menacing tone as he pointed his wand at his cousin.

Blaise eyed his cousin's wand wearily before backing off toward the door and exiting the room like a madman.

"Serves him _right_," he muttered to himself and proceeded to get dressed. He would be fashionably late as always.

****

…

Draco was sitting in his seat next to the Mudblood, Snape wasn't there yet, and Draco _himself_ had been **five** minutes late.

This isn't going too well, he thought and took a glance at the Mudblood.

Her wiry brown hair was framing her acne-filled face, and her lips were big and puffy, as if she had been kissed only a short moment before or she had chewed on them. He mentally shuddered when she glanced his way.

"What?" the Mudblood asked him, and he rolled his grey eyes at her inquisitiveness.

"You'll be next, filthy little Mudblood," he said in a low voice so only she would hear, and her chocolate eyes widened _ever_ so slightly.

"So, the rumours about you fancying me aren't true at all," she murmured, and he sneered coldly at her.

"I'll **never **fancy you," He spat out, and she eyed him wearily.

Her eyes were a rich honey brown, and he hated the laughing expression in them when she said, "I'm glad, because I was actually starting to worry, Anthony as well."

So, it's her and Anthony Goldstein… he thought with a twinge of curiosity.

Draco was like a sex-god compared to _him_! Surely Granger would realise…

"You're all_ imbeciles_ compared to me," he muttered under his breath.

Granger snorted, and he slapped her clear across her face and her eyes welled up with tears.

"Don't laugh mudblood, your kind is meant to be squashed," he spat, and she glared daggers at him.

"Shut up, you bloody little-"

Snape decided now it was the time to make a dramatic entrance and Draco rolled his eyes at his teacher's gusto and brilliant smirk.

"Today we will learn how to make a time potion," Snape said with his usual air of arrogance, and Draco arched his pale eyebrows at him, supporting his head with his right hand.

"Time potion…" Draco murmured to himself, his grey eyes cloudy. _This might help me some with the mudblood and make father pleased…_

"First of all; the person to your left or right is automatically your partner, and you'll be working on this project for three months. Second of all-- this potion involves you being with your partner in another universe, thus you'll be making your own world, but after the project you'll destroy it. This is a life lesson: remember, you create it, you destroy it, or it destroys _you_."

Granger groaned, and Draco smirked wickedly, knowing his father would praise him afterwards.

"Stuck with _him_," he heard her grumble and he didn't care, he was already up and collecting the ingredients.

"It is going to be a world where only Granger will rely on_ me_ for protection…" He muttered to himself and collected lacewings, wolf bane, garlic, powdered slug, and some holy for his good luck, which he stuck in his pocket.

Granger didn't glance up at him; she had her head on her desk, crying softly.

Draco sighed and sat down beside her, setting the ingredients on his desk noisily, and Granger looked up rapidly, her eyes blood-shot, her frizzy hair flying around her, like static, Draco thought she_ might_ have electrocuted herself.

"Stop your scowling, you're only gonna make our situation _worse_," Draco muttered and put in the wolf bane, and the potion turned a deep blue.

"Shut up, shut it…" She was muttering and Draco was getting the impression that Granger wasn't as sane as he thought earlier.

"You're daft," he muttered and grabbed a handful of her thick stringy locks and pulled her head harshly off her desk.

"Malfoy, you're hurting me!" she snarled, and Draco only gripped her frizzy locks harder, but her eyes didn't feel with tears; this Muggleborn had dignity.

"Stay awake Mudblood, or I'm leaving you there," he spat, and that must have caught her attention, because her hands suddenly ripped his away from her very frizzy and copper static-plagued locks and she sat up straight.

"You wouldn't dare," she muttered, and Draco nodded, sneering at her.

"See, Mudblood, that's the beauty of being a Malfoy. You care for **no** one, and you leave them all behind if they **don't** cooperate," he said in a mocking voice, and the mudblood's eyes widened again.

"You would be…" She realised what she was about to say and stopped.

"Expelled? I **doubt** it. My father pays the school about 6,000.000 galleons a week. How much do your _Muggle_ parents pay?" he spat, and she glared at him.

"Malfoy, this argument doesn't involve _money_, it involves the **survival**-"

"Of our world? Ha, I love how that sounds… _Our _world… Like a _newborn_ promise," he laughed, and Granger took the lacewings away from him and started letting them drop into the potion.

"Let's just get this over with," she grumbled restlessly, and Draco mentally smirked inside in enjoyment.

"Whatever, Mudblood," he muttered and waited until her hand was out of the way to put in the garlic.

Draco could feel Granger's eyes upon him but ignored her stare and continued to work, his pale hair sometimes becoming a nuisance.

"Malfoy, I always thought you were a vampire of some sorts…"

"I'm _normal_," Draco muttered and when he finished, he glanced up and met her icy stare.

"Really?" she asked, and he rolled his eyes at her.

"Shut it, Mudblood…" He took a vial and scooped up a bit of the potion and corked the bottle. He did the same with another bottle and shoved it at her.

"What?"

"It's our return vial, mudblood, don't lose it," he spat and his gaze became icy.

"Are you trusting me?" she asked quietly, and he eyed his vial with vague curiosity.

"Well, I trust you want to get out of our world alive and get back to snogging Goldstein," Draco replied and was stunned with curiosity at the blood red liquid.

From now on, Draco was going to have some decent respect from his father, all because he was going to kill the mudblood instead of just breaking her soul. He could bribe Fudge into letting him borrow some dementors and using them on her, just for fun. He could lock her in one of his dungeons…

"Malfoy--"

"Shut up," he muttered, being interrupted from his vivid fantasies from the girl he was imagining invoking torture upon.

"Snape wants to examine our potion!" she pushed his shoulders and he wouldn't budge, but he looked over at her ugly face, his grey eyes nearly black.

"Well, _take_ it then," he trusted the vial at her, and she took it hastily from him and set the vials upon Snape's desk.

With his new staring game coming to a close, Draco was bored out of his mind.

Must Granger be so bloody slow? he wondered, his long fingers playing idly with his quill.

"Malfoy, do you fancy just being bored for the rest of your days?" his grey eyes switched their fathomless gaze to Granger.

"No, but we all know you do, you little study bitch…" He muttered just before the bell rang.

"Meet up with your partners in the random broom closet, pour the potion, and meet up with them everyday! Do I need to explain any further to get that into your _thick_ little skulls?"

Draco smirked at his Potion teacher's language and scooped his parchment and tucked his wand behind his ear to walk out of class, pondering about what his world would look like.

****

…

Draco was sitting in his regular place in the library, in one of the dark corners sitting on a very hard chair and reading a Dark Arts book that mainly talked about ways of using a mudblood's blood for satanic rituals.

"_Lumos_," he muttered, and set the green beam on his book and read softly, his lips set in a straight line.

"Malfoy?" a feminine voice squeaked, and he looked away from his book to see Granger from a few tables away. He rolled his grey eyes at her and continued reading.

"Malfoy, I know you can see me!" she whispered, and he released a long irritated sigh.

Why can't she just ignore me? He wondered and eyed her warily as she scooped up her books and was walking toward him.

"What do you want, you filth?" he spat, his grey eyes cold.

"We have to go to the random broom closet, Malfoy!" she answered, and Draco directed his eyes to his very vivid book.

"I thought you would forget," Draco said, gazing calmly at a picture--moving, of course-- of a tall blond man strangling a brunette girl, which looked like she was _his _age.

"I want to make a good grade on this project, Malfoy, even if a total _bum_ like you doesn't," she explained cantankerously, and Draco rolled his eyes at the pitch of her voice. Even if they were at the farthest corner of the library, the librarian had good hearing.

"Fine, I'll go with you. You know where exactly this _infamous_ closet is, right?" he stood, waved a hand and his books were stacked up neatly with various parchment and quills, and he gazed curiously at her.

"Follow me," she said simply and he watched her stride toward the door, and he easily caught up with her.

"I don't trust you, Granger," he muttered, glancing around him warily.

"When we build our world, I'll be the only person you could talk to," she pointed out, and Draco sighed miserably.

"And by Merlin's beard I'll be bored!" he exclaimed and Granger stopped finally at a mysterious door.

When Granger entered the closet, Draco saw a glimpse of a magnificent room and he entered after her, his grey eyes scanning around the enormous room.

The random 'broom' closet was almost as big as Draco's room, and that said a lot. The walls were lined with doors carved with the names of the creators upon them, and he watched with vague interest when Granger dipped her fingers into their vial and pressed her first two fingers onto the wall.

"Malfoy, you need to do this, too, and why are you bringing your stuff with you?" she eyed the books and parchment behind him. Draco realised she had used a spell to transport her books back to her dorm.

"We'll be there for a while, so I reckoned I could have some decent reading material," he answered coolly, and took the vial from her and after dunking his fingers into it; he pressed them into the wall closely to Granger's.

When they pulled away, where their fingers were their names appeared, Draco's in silver and Granger's in gold, a long thorny white rose weaved between them, and eventually a charcoal-coloured door appeared.

"Too bad this world will be destroyed…" she murmured, and Draco scowled.

"There's no handle," he muttered.

"I think it's the rose," she said, and he stared incredulously at her.

"How, may I presume, can we open that hard wooden door with that flimsy--"

Granger touched the head of the rose and tugged on it.

"It's solid!" she concluded, and proved herself right with another pull, and Draco raised his pale eyebrows high.

"This is the oddest-- no, it isn't…" Draco found himself muttering, and Granger hesitantly opened the door, and a blinding light greeted their vision.

"Damn…" He muttered and Granger strolled into the light, and Draco followed behind her with vague curiosity.

****

…

Draco's arse landed safely on a cardboard box while Granger settled face-first hard into the earth.

"Do you see a cabin somewhere?" Granger questioned, and Draco's gaze shifted to a brick cabin a few miles away.

It was freezing, and snow was rapidly falling on them, and Granger was covered in a hardly any moments, and her head popped up, spitting out the snow and shaking her frizzy curls around. Draco stared at her perplexedly, before recalling her question.

"Yes," he replied coolly and jumped off his box, which read; 'Draco's resources.' The snowfall reached his waist, when Granger stood up, it reached her chest, and Draco was surprised at their size difference.

Ruddy hell, she's a midget!

"Must have the stuff you brought along with it," she said randomly, obviously not seeing the label upon it.

Vaguely recalling her again…

Nostalgia, Draco.

You're not my friend…

Oh, then what am I?

A roommate.

"Stop stalling, Granger," he muttered with unambiguous annoyance and waved his wand at the box and it was immediately floating behind him.

Granger scowled in his direction, but plodded through the snow, pursuing Draco reluctantly.

"This world is very unstable," Granger muttered to herself, and she blinked as the snow rapidly started falling twice as more.

"Did you think of this, this cabin?" he asked her without a backward glance, climbing softly up the set of steps.

"Yes, but I didn't expect it to just appear like this," she muttered in reply, and he touched the doorknob briefly, and gradually turned it to stare at an empty room with white walls, no decorations at all.

"I think we need some bathrooms…" Draco stated, and instantly two dark coloured doors appeared at the right side of the room. "I'll be decorating my bathroom, you go do whatever Mudbloods do," he said to her, and before she could retort, he had left the room.

Is her room still bloody?

Shut up-- you're supposed to help!

Oh, here we go again…

Once inside the room, the same bareness the other room held greeted Draco.

"Walls; green with black trim. Floor; clean silver marble… There should be a standing shower on the left side, the shower curtain decorated with pure Slytherin pride. There should be a decent-sized tub next to it, filled with various soaps and shampoos with a pleasant scent. In the middle of this room should be a drawer, filled with green towels and black bathrobes. Behind the drawer should be a sink against the wall, and a cabinet above it containing hair products."

Draco actually smiled at his work and decided he should take a quick shower to test it out; Granger's filth might have rubbed off him.

…

Draco secured his bathrobe with the plush belt and tied his hair back with a black ribbon and exited his paradise, only to find that Granger had decorated the Common Room as he called it, but he heard her call it a 'living room.' The girl had her back turned to him, doing the 'toil' on the kitchen.

Mum loved to redecorate the kitchen once a month…

You're being nostalgic…

So? I miss it!

Granger is such an odd person, isn't she?

Draco observed his surroundings and saw there were two couches, one black, and the other red. He examined the silver walls and saw she had a moving portrait of a serpent and a lioness frolicking together. While the walls were a light silver the trim was gold, and there was a huge bookcase taking up half the left corner of the room. There were a few tables with two chairs around them, both placed at different sides. There wasn't much else left to look at, but there was a fireplace under the portrait, and he saw she had already had their room doors made.

"Seems homey…" He muttered before he could stop himself, and Granger turned toward him, her frizzy hair secured back with a red scrunchie.

"I know you're not used to it, but I need my books, and I don't care if you change it, because I wasn't thinking clearly at the time," she said and he nodded in reply, taking the Dark Arts book out of his box that was beside the black couch, plopping down upon the light and feathery cushion.

He had laid her blood-decked-self upon the couch and watched her bleed.

Granger is starting to trust me, I can see it in her eyes… he thought and flipped through pages, reading hungrily like a child in need of knowledge, only he was 18, and a 7th year, who possessed a brilliant mind.

Granger was going to fall for him, but it was going to have to be slow.

The girl Goldstein, he could tell, but it was a friendship kind of love. He knew that Goldstein was head-over-heels for another Ravenclaw, a brunette one, and the girl fancied him, too.

Granger would be fairly difficult to break, but he was going to do it.

…

Draco had fallen asleep upon the couch, and Granger left him there, probably leaving their world to go to Hogsmeade with her friends.

It was only his sheer luck it was a Saturday.

Saturday was the day she died…

It was such a horrible Saturday, was it not?

Exactly.

Draco's book was on his lap, and he was sleeping in his pyjamas, having thought of that before he fell into slumber. Granger must have covered him with silver sheets, being the **nice **person she was.

Draco knew he was getting far without even trying, and he would owl his father about it when he reached his dorms.

"He wanted urgent information, so I might as well…" he mumbled and pulled the covers off himself, changed his pyjamas into black robes, brushed his hair out of his eyes, and walked out of the cabin.

"How do we get back, again?" he found himself wondering aloud, but saw Granger playing with Goldstein, mostly chatting away, but he also saw that Ravenclaw girl that Goldstein fancied with them.

Draco released a long sigh and searched for a door, his grey eyes fathomless, gazing up into the cloudy sky, which resembled his eyes.

"This world isn't supposed to look realistic…"

Her chocolate eyes were glassy, fathomless, and he knew she was dead.

"Not breathing… Twinkie, come here!"

Damn… He thought, and felt a light tap upon his shoulder, and turned around to see the girl that Goldstein fancied staring open-mouthed at him, buried up to her elbows in snow.

"You-- are you Draco Malfoy?" she stuttered, and Draco arched his pale eyebrows at her.

"My name's on the door," he said simply, and watched Granger being tickled to death by Goldstein over the girl's shoulder.

"You fancy Granger, don't you? Or do you just fancy brunettes?"

Draco glanced a blank expression at his competition, and saw he was dressed in Muggle clothes, a black mesh tank top over white cargoes, and he was wearing black bunny slippers, it making his vibrant blond hair stand out even more.

Draco nearly gagged, and the brunette girl standing in front of him blinked.

Draco was amazed at the resemblance between him and Goldstein, but he was also disgusted at how _obvious _Granger and him didn't even remotely _like _another, but were trying to _so _hard to make it work out between them.

Mum and dad loved another…

Granger deserves someone better than that Ravenclaw, much better…

"I just fancy brunettes," he answered, eyeing her warily.

"Do you fancy Granger? I hear she _fancies _you!" she whispered, and Draco shuddered.

"No, I don't fancy her, I'm not fancying anyone right now," he informed her, and she scowled.

"She doesn't fancy Anthony anymore, she's breaking ties with him soon," the Ravenclaw girl said.

"What's your name, anyway? I've been wondering…"

The Ravenclaw blinked, and then answered, "Cho Chang."

"Well, Cho, I think Granger's new ex fancies you," he said, feeling a little weird connection with her, decided to walk past her, his hands shoved into his pants pockets.

"Oh, really?"

Really, quite truly fathomless, emotionless, nonexistent and hopeless.

Draco rolled his eyes at her hopeful tone, and continued walking until his eyes found the door.

"Finally," Draco muttered exasperatedly and put his hand to the knob and twisted it ajar.

…

Draco sprinted toward the Slytherin common room, no one to murmur things after him, because they were all at Hogsmeade, and the 1st and 2nd years knew better than to mess with him.

"He's probably worried by now…" He thought aloud, and eventually reached the portrait. "Filthy mudbloods," he spat out the password, and Salazar arched his eyebrows at him.

"You look depressed, boy."

"The mudbloods feel, just like us," Pansy had said when they were together.

"You're mental," he replied, and Pansy shook her chocolate curls.

"I know, Draco-- they're actually human, too…"

"I **am **depressed, now could you let me in?" Draco crossed his arms over himself, and he waited impatiently.

"Oh, fine," Salazar said, and the portrait flung open, and Draco sighed exasperatedly.

The first years blinked at the Prefect and he stomped up the stairs; he was disgusted with the Muggle clothes they were wearing, but first be needed to get back to his room, father was probably worried.

Draco knew his father was an impatient person, but he also knew Granger wouldn't give in to him easily. Father had no clue, and he probably expected him to have the girl longing him, but Draco was going to clue him in, even if he had to write it fifty thousand times.

…

Granger had been waiting for him…

"What the bloody **hell**?"

Draco stared impassively at the girl's tear-streaked face and bent down to have a better look at her.

"Granger, have you been crying this whole time?" he asked her softly, not sincerely caring about how she felt, he was just acting.

"Shut your mouth," she was mumbling, and Draco stared blankly at her, his platinum hair tumbling over his shoulders.

"Granger, you have **nothing **to cry about. No one in your family died suddenly or… just was killed in battle. You don't know the true meaning of 'melancholic.' You have no utter clue," he spat, and that seemed to attract her attention, because she lifted her head up and met his icy gaze.

"Do you see thestrals?"

"That has nothing at _all _to do with--"

"Yes, it does, Malfoy," she interrupted and Draco eyed her curiously.

"How?" he asked childishly, and she shook her bushy head.

Not human, utter filth, that is what they are.

"They are humans, they have emotional scars like the rest of us," she had once said.

"You're too compassionate," Draco had replied dryly.

"The ones who witness a great mass number of death will end up having the same fate as their victims," she said numbly, and Draco put his hands on her knees, reminding himself to wash thoroughly later.

"Granger, you can't be _serious_," he said, getting a better look into her chocolate eyes.

Reminds me of her…

How sad…

Why did she have to possess those eyes?

"I read it in a book somewhere…" she muttered and he gave her an emotionless stare.

"Granger, you're making no sense… Did you get any sleep last night at _all_?" he eyed her pale face thoughtfully.

"Do you see thestrals?" she tried again, and he blinked, scowling deeply.

"I see those winged-horse creatures…"

"You saw your mother die," she stated with pure paranoia, and he nodded.

"Yes, but what does that have to do with me? Are you feeling pity for me, Granger? I **don't **_need _your pity," he spat and stood up, easily towering over her, an angered look crossing his face.

"Anthony!" she squeaked, and Draco cocked a pale eyebrow at her.

Ooh, look, here her hero comes…

He's with that Ravenclaw Cho.

Well, it looks like he asked her out…

Draco glanced over her shoulder at them then back at Granger. "So? He's with a girl, so what? Do you feel sad about that? What about getting revenge on the sick bastard?"

Going for the kill…

Her eyes filled with tears, and she put her hands on her knees to support herself when she stood.

"Malfoy, you're a conceited bastard…" She muttered under her breath, Draco smirked cruelly at her, interlacing of his arms with her own.

"Act," he mouthed at her startled expression.

"Malfoy! What the hell!"

Granger stood on her tip-toes and kissed Draco's cheek, and Draco commanded himself not to look disgusted, which was very hard to do.

"Bye, boyfriend of mine," she said softly, walking past Goldstein and Cho, a little bounce in her step, which Draco noticed with a mild smirk.

This bit of information might come in handy! he thought, turning back to step through the open Slytherin portrait with a little plan forming in his head…

****

TBC

So, how did you like my revision? It was terrific to write! Go and review now!


	3. Chapter two

Characters borrowed by: **Perpetual Thoughts and Meaning**

Disastrous Dragon

"_I know you best, better than one might think. I know you better than I know myself. It's time for you to make a sacrifice. It's time to die a little. Give it up_."-Part of me, **Tool**

Previously on DD:

_"Malfoy, you're a conceited bastard…" She muttered under her breath, Draco smirked cruelly at her, interlacing of his arms with her own._

_"Act," he mouthed at her startled expression._

_"Malfoy! What the hell!"_

_Granger stood on her tiptoes and kissed Draco's cheek, and Draco commanded himself not to look disgusted, which was very hard to do._

_"Bye, boyfriend of mine," she said softly, walking past Goldstein and Cho, a little bounce in her step, which Draco noticed with a mild smirk. _This bit of information might come in handy!_ he thought, turning back to step through the open Slytherin portrait with a little plan forming in his head…_

Chapter two: _If she Dares to Struggle…_

Draco was not aware of what really happened the day before, but he had no time to think about it now, he was in his room in the cabin, and it was decorated with Slytherin colours…  
  
_Granger decorated my room… _He thought groggily, and glanced down at his clock to see it was about 11:41 AM.   
  
"Damn, I slept late again!" he muttered, and he settled his hands under his head, scowling deeply.  
  
"It's Sunday, Malfoy…"  
  
_Sunday was when Father found out…  
  
No, the girl, she is like a Bludger to the head…  
  
I think she has staring problems.  
  
Definitely…  
  
_Hermione was smiling at him, and his grey eyes darkened at the sight of her, her hair was frizzy and in tufts, like she'd stuck her finger in an electrical socket, or whatever Muggles called those things.  
  
"Granger, you hair seems to always have a life of its own…" he commented icily, and her dark eyes widened with anger.  
  
"Well, at least mine is not falling out!"  
  
Ouch…  
  
"Granger, my dear, sweet, cherished **Mudblood**… I know you can make up a better insult than **that**," Draco said coolly, and Hermione stomped over to his bed.  
  
"You are the most obnoxious egoistic bastard! I was **trying **to be civil, Malfoy!" she exclaimed and Draco eyed her warily as she plopped down on his bed.  
  
Granger was wearing a baggy black shirt over white shapeless pants, and she had a crimson ribbon tied around her right wrist.  
  
_Don't you dare say a word!  
  
What do you mean?  
  
The- the ribbon…  
  
Yeah, your mum wore a ribbon-  
  
SHUT IT!  
  
_Draco was wearing his black pyjamas, the ones with the silver snake on his shirt, and he had used a spell to make his finger nails black, which were intertwined and resting on his lap. He was still mourning, if you could believe… Black was his default colour, anyway, he never liked it, but now it just represented his feelings.   
  
"I am not sorry, and I also have every right to state that, because it is the truth," Draco replied, and Hermione had her head turned toward him, her chocolate eyes narrowed in anger.  
  
"Well, Malfoy, what makes you think we care about your opinion? You are just a bloody Death Eater…" She spat, Draco found it hard to suppress a laugh, he pulled up his shirtsleeves, and he felt Hermione's eyes wander over his pale arm where the Mark was.  
  
"I could kill you with two fingers, Mudblood," he spat icily, and he watched her scoot away from him, her eyes wide with a new emotion: apprehension.  
  
_Make it stop, stop it, Granger!  
  
Damn it, soon I'm gonna be seeing things…  
  
Fuck it, her eyes are just so penetrating…  
  
Make it stop, oh, Merlin!  
  
_"You-- you wouldn't!"  
  
Oh,** how **she was so _enjoyable_ to frighten…  
  
"And why wouldn't I, you pitiless little Mudblood?" he asked her as he leaned forward, gazing into her chocolate eyes, his dark grey ones penetrating her soul; he could see her dread, he could see her clearly shaking, and he knew she wouldn't be able to move.  
  
"You would be sent to Azkaban, otherwise Harry and Ron would slaughter you!" she tried again, and he smirked at her struggle for words.  
  
_Azkaban… Hmm, wonder what it's like…  
  
If I knew where your origin was, I would kill you!  
  
Don't you wonder, though?  
  
It doesn't interest me…  
  
_"Do you think I would still be here by then, Granger? Oh, and I just have one word for you…" He paused as he reached for his wand, his grey eyes glued to her chocolate ones.  
  
"Out."  
  
Hermione's eyes darkened, and he smirked evilly at her, and was close enough to see the sand still in her eyes.  
  
"Why should I? I don't have to do anything you say, ferret!"  
  
Draco held his head back and laughed coldly and maliciously, his platinum locks flying around him maddeningly.  
  
_See? You're going mad!  
  
I want to rip her fucking eyes out…  
  
You never laugh…  
  
It's an evil laugh, aren't I entitled to that?  
  
Evil… I suppose.  
  
_"Oh, don't you think that's getting a bit old, Granger?" he asked the now positively frightened 17 year old, and she turned her face away from him. Draco smirked pointedly, before lying back on his bed and shutting his eyes slowly.  
  
"Damn you, Malfoy!" he felt her stand and put his fingers into his ears just before she slammed his door behind her.  
  
"Good day, Mudblood…"  
  
He cackled coldly, unable to contain himself.

…

Draco strode out of the random broom closet, his usual black robes flowing behind him, his emotionless mask over his true annoyance, his hands shoved into his pants pockets.  
  
They were talking about him, again…  
  
"Filthy, the whole lot of them," he muttered to himself as he walked toward the Slytherin common room, his hostile eyes gazing straight ahead, though he could practically quote on any exchange.  
  
_"His eyes are cold!"  
  
"Do you think the Granger girl slapped him, again?"  
  
"He's practically seething…"  
  
"Damn, he frightens me! Do you see his fists shaking?"  
  
_"Filthy Mudbloods," he murmured to the portrait, and stomped inside the dungeons once it opened.  
  
Draco went straight up to the boy's dorms, where no one would be, since a lot of the Slytherin guys were in the Slytherin _girl's_ dorms.  
  
"Ah, here it is…" He murmured to himself once he reached his trunk and sorted through it once he had opened the six clasps, and his fingers found his quills and parchment.  
  
Draco had felt an urge to write since he had those damned eyes had been following him, and now he could pour out all his frustrations on his parchment.  
  
_I'm too old for this,  
  
If I dare see those cold eyes once more I'll go mental.  
  
All these disturbances just stir me up even more,  
  
Critically accurate, it must have been planned all out…  
  
Her eyes are just pointless orbs…  
  
She's shouting it repeatedly,  
  
Like an invisible nuisance, only she can speak.  
  
I could retort heatedly,  
  
But I find myself far too weak…  
  
_"Malfoy, what are you doing?"  
  
Draco glanced from his poetry to see Blaise Zabini glaring at him from the doorway.  
  
"What do you want, you man whore?" Draco spat out, and Zabini rolled his sapphire eyes at him.  
  
"We have a match with Ravenclaw in two days, you need to practice for Quidditch," he stated with pure annoyance.  
  
"Why does it matter? Potter's little turds are going to beat us in the long run," Draco said bitterly and set his poetry and quills in his trunk and plopped back down on his bed.  
  
"If we train, Malfoy, we might just have a chance!"  
  
Draco snorted and untied his shoes, and felt Zabini's furious stare upon him.  
  
"We have no chance at anything," Draco replied and slid under the black covers of his bed, still decked in his robes.  
  
"Are you always this fucking pessimistic?!"  
  
_Yes, are you?  
  
You know that better than anyone else, conscience.  
  
Will you admit it to yourself?  
  
It's just me, it's just who I am.  
  
_"Yes, in fact I am," Draco replied and clapped his hands before the room fell into shadow.

Quidditch Practice-- Next day, 5:30 PM

"We will be practicing diving, catching, throwing, and most importantly, concentration," Flint, who had failed another year, again, stated coolly, and Draco stood beside a tall blond boy, his arms crossed over his chest.  
  
"Why should we? Those damned Gryffindors would beat us, anyway!" The blond beside him shouted, and Draco nodded in agreement.  
  
"Yes, that's exactly what I was thinking," Draco murmured, and the boy smirked lightly.  
  
"So? These are the Ravenclaws!" Flint tried again, and Draco looked over at the team, his permanent scowl on his face.  
  
"The Gryffindors are arriving," Millicent grumbled, and Draco scowled.  
  
"Let's just go, before they take the field over," Draco suggested, and the team nodded, and Zabini carried their Quidditch trunk to the middle of the pitch.  
  
"Hey! What are you lot doing?" Potter, the Gryffindor Quidditch caption yelled, and Draco raised his eyebrows at Granger, who was climbing up the stands where the audience sat to watch.  
  
"Great, it's second year all over again," Draco grumbled and glared icily at his rivals.  
  
_Spite? An emotion?  
  
I hate them…  
  
Hate isn't the best emotion, y'know.  
  
They fucking beat me every year at Quidditch!  
  
Oh, so you're jealous?  
  
_Draco groaned, his internal argument becoming worse by the minute while his teammates were fighting with the Gryffindors.  
  
"Make it stop, make it stop…" He was mumbling and clasped his hands over his ears.  
  
He watched numbly as Professor McGonagall walked out of the catacombs with a parchment clenched in her right hand.  
  
"We are all damned," he muttered, and as he fought a battle of his own, the Granger girl ran down from the stands to join the Gryffindors beside Weasley the 6th.  
  
Zabini had slung their trunk at Potter and knocked him unconscious, and McGonagall was ticking off house points.  
  
"Stop it, stop…" He murmured, and he shut his eyes tightly, but that only made it worse, because now he saw vivid images of his mother smiling…

...

"Malfoy? Malfoy!"  
  
_A girl's voice…  
  
Sounds worried, panicky…  
  
Perhaps it's Pansy?  
  
_Draco felt a warm hand touch his face and his eyes snapped open to gaze into Hermione's chocolate coloured ones.  
  
"Get the fuck away from me," he rasped and pushed the bending girl away, and he had to take a minute to observe around him. Like a muggle light bulb, the world around him shined in his face; as if insulting him...  
  
The hospital wing.  
  
Hermione gazed scornfully down at him and he sat up, gazing blankly at her before she finally broke the silence with a cough.  
  
"Allergies?" Draco asked before he could stop himself, and Hermione nodded lightly, her eyes wide with curiosity.  
  
_See? Now you've frightened the girl…  
  
So? Curiosity killed the cat!  
  
But what if you don't want the cat slaughtered?  
  
I want her dead, I can assure you that much.  
  
_"So, you **do **have a soul," she said to herself, and Draco raised his eyebrows at her comment.  
  
"Of _course _I have a soul, Granger. I'm a normal person like you," he said, and she leaned forward and poked his forehead lightly.  
  
"Malfoy, we always thought you were some kind of vamp, and that the reason why you fuck up Quidditch is because the sun blocks out your concentration," Hermione informed him, and he gazed up at her finger.  
  
"I'm definitely not a vampire, because you would be able to tell," Draco replied, "and I wouldn't be able to eat or drink anything but blood…"  
  
"Malfoy, I think that Bludger actually made you enjoyable," she abruptly stated, and he realised he had let her touch him.  
  
_It's just Granger, Draco, breathe…  
  
I might get a whiff of her dirty blood!  
  
You can't smell her blood, because you're not 'special'.  
  
Damn, I'm thinking illogically.  
  
_"What the fuck are you on, Mudblood?" he spat, and she recoiled back, her chocolate eyes widening.  
  
"I was just saying-"  
  
"Why the fuck did you even come here, anyway?" he interrupted, and she glared maliciously at him.  
  
"I just saw you here, and I was checking to find Harry! I haven't found him yet," she stated angrily, and he scowled darkly at her and stood to his feet.  
  
"Hope you never find him," he said spitefully, and pushed past her to exit the hospital wing.  
  
That damned girl just drove him insane!

…

"We haven't even practiced, damn it!" Flint was ranting now, and Draco sat between that blond Slytherin and Millicent, a permanent scowl on his features.  
  
"Yes, we all know that, because of the damned Gryffindors," Draco replied, and stifled a yawn, practically bored to tears.  
  
"I don't think we can beat the Ravenclaws today," Flint grumbled, and Draco pushed back his bangs as he waited impatiently.  
  
"Look, you're not helping the situation any with the pessimism," Draco said, and his teammates nodded in agreement, but Flint released a huge intake of breath.  
  
"We have the match in a few hours, I don't think we should be causing any tension, we need to stay calm, but still, we need to go over the strategy one more time," Millicent said, and Draco nodded correspondingly, and Flint finally gave in.  
  
"All right, fine…Draco, when Chang jumps on her broom, pretend to be swerving, like you lost control of your broom-- we jinxed the Bludgers so they follow Chang around, but other than that, just go for it. We need to prove that we can win, even if we're a point ahead, we have to give it our all!"  
  
Draco blanched; he had made friends with that girl, he didn't want to hurt the girl in any way! He wasn't about to protest, and he merely released a long and steady sigh.  
  
"Let's go," he whispered after he could hear the clamouring crowd, "we're next."  
  
The Beaters were Crabbe and Goyle, Flint was a Chaser along with Millicent and that boy, and Blaise was the Keeper, and Draco, of course, was the prized Seeker…  
  
Crabbe and Goyle walked out behind Flint, and Draco followed Millicent, and that boy and Blaise trailed behind.  
  
Draco's heart was racing fast, he felt as if he would explode. These damn kids were screaming **so** loudly, and he wasn't used to it, it made him so damn nervous that he was afraid he wouldn't be able to follow the team's plan.  
  
"No, that Granger girl…" He muttered, and he gripped his broom tightly, and stood between Zabini and Crabbe, watching Flint shake hands with Cho.  
  
He looked up to the stands, and when his eyes scanned across the Gryffindor stands, he immediately spotted Hermione chattering animatedly with Ginny Weasley.  
  
"Mount your brooms-- OK, three, two… Ready?"  
  
Draco swallowed down the hot vomit that invaded his throat, anticipation filling his core. During that short moment, a thousand thoughts went through Draco's head, and he felt very dizzy and nervous…  
  
"**GO**!"  
  
"And off those lot go," Dean Thomas, who was actually doing a terrific job, shouted into his microphone, and the cheering only increased.  
  
Draco scowled deeply; he was trying his best to concentrate. The Snitch was still far from him, but Chang was flying from Bludgers, the Ravenclaw chasers trying to fight them off her.  
  
"The Quaffle is passed to Crabbe of Slytherin-- what a fat bugger that one is, rather podgy on the side--"  
  
"**THOMAS**!"  
  
Dean Thomas cradled his left cheek and grumbled a, "sorry ma'am."  
  
Well, Thomas wasn't **that **different from Jordan after all…  
  
"The bugger is really soaring, the Quaffle is passed to Goyle of Slytherin, and, whoa, Malfoy is really flying exceptionally well for a Slytherin-- **EUCH**!"  
  
Draco held back a snigger as he concentrated on the Snitch.  
  
"The Ravenclaw Seeker finally has escaped the Bludgers-- Slytherin scores…" Thomas stopped rambling, sounding disappointed.  
  
The Ravenclaws mirrored his emotions and groaned while the Slytherins cheered loudly.  
  
"Malfoy's around the field, Cho's making a fair attempt-- OUCH-- that has to hurt! Cho was hit on her nose-- she's bleeding like crazy! Quaffle in possession of the Ravenclaws--ooh, blocked-- good dive by Malfoy-- Cho's catching up! Oh, Cho's hit again! Bulstrode has got the Quaffle-- Miss, damn it, miss-- OW!"  
  
Draco had almost had his fingers around it, he could feel the wings fluttering against his face, but when he opened his mouth to shout in victory, to no ones surprise, he swallowed the Golden Snitch. He lost control of his broom and landed on his face, Madam Hooch scurrying up to him to examine his injuries.  
  
"Can you spit it out, boy?"  
  
Draco nodded-- the Snitch was flapping insanely in his mouth, and he quickly spat it out, trying not to think about the many people's hands that touched it.  
  
"Good, stand up, now, I'm sure you can, you were only ten feet in the air!"  
  
Flint and Millicent helped Draco up after they landed, and Draco was caught in an uncontrollable coughing fit.

…

"You did it, Draco!"  
  
Draco, who suspected he was in the hospital wing again, groaned, and opened his eyes to gaze at his teammates.  
  
"Hey, you, with the blond hair… Who are you again…?" Draco mumbled a bit incoherently, and the boy laughed.  
  
"Matt Stewart," he answered, as if it wasn't such a big deal to him.  
  
"I haven't seen you around, Matt… Are you an exchange student?"  
  
"Yes, in fact I am, I was on the Quidditch team in Durmstrang," Matt drawled coolly, and Draco nodded in understanding.  
  
"That's why you are good… Flint, did you know about that?" Draco murmured, and Flint nodded.  
  
"Yeah, I was allowed to take a trip there one time," he said casually, and Draco leaned forward on his hospital bed.  
  
"Look, is that peckish nurse still there? If she isn't, help me out of here!" he stated, and Matt and Flint helped him out of bed and dragged him out of there.  
  
When they were far into the corridors, Draco said loudly, "Will you louts put me the hell down? I need to unwrap these bandages!"  
  
"Bullocks," Zabini grumbled from a corner as Draco unwrapped his legs, thankful that the nurse hadn't used gauze, and left the rags behind the statue of a pixie.  
  
"Do you think we played fairly well?" Draco asked out of the blue, and Matt nodded, while Flint just gazed at him incredulously.  
  
"Definitely, Draco, since we beat them by fifty points!" Flint exclaimed, and Draco smirked lightly, obviously enjoying himself.

…

"Okay, who's better looking? The guy who has the voice that breaks dog's ears, or the guy with the double chin?"  
  
Draco raised his eyebrows slowly, and then glanced incredulously at Pansy.  
  
"Bloody hell, you wench, I don't swing that way," he muttered and she burst out laughing.  
  
"Oh, I know! Just tell me which one looks better with me!" she insisted. "It's gonna be dreadful if we don't look together, I mean, think of the gossip!"  
  
"No, really, I don't think gossip," He replied dryly.   
  
Draco did some rather odd things in his spare time. Chattering with Pansy was just the tip of the iceberg… He knew he should be sleeping, but being the insomniac he was, he knew it wouldn't come easy, so he just gave up on it.   
  
Draco was stiff after three weeks of insomnia, and he was surprised that no one actually noticed. Well, they probably didn't care, anyhow, or he was just hiding it too well.  
  
"Just voice your opinion Draco, please!" She begged, and Draco stared over at her from his bed warily.  
  
"Fine, fine… I think the blond guy that hurts dogs looks good with you. Now can you leave me alone?!"  
  
"Yes, thank you!" she said giddily, and Draco clapped his hands softly.

…

"Malfoy, what's with your eyes?"  
  
Draco glanced over at Hermione, his eyelids drooping slowly. He had been sitting in the library reading, but she had caught him again.  
  
"What is it to you, Granger?" he muttered sleepily, and she just shrugged.  
  
_Seems a bit curious, does she not?  
  
Yes, and my sleepiness doesn't help the situation…  
  
Not one bit.  
  
I wonder if she can tell…  
  
_"Just asking. I don't actually care, but you seem a bit tense…" She said, and he rested his head on his Dark Arts book for a moment.  
  
Draco breathed in deeply and his back made a quiet cracking noise, and Hermione walked over to his table.  
  
"Malfoy, have you been sleeping lately?" she murmured and he opened his stormy grey eyes to gaze up at her.  
  
"No, I haven't at all," he admitted, and she shook her bushy head at him, and he muttered, "Granger, I don't want your head lice."  
  
Hermione scowled and took the seat beside him, putting her hands to the knob behind his neck, brushing her hands against it.  
  
_Although you insulted her, she still helps you…  
  
Odd, isn't it?  
  
I think she's just a kind person.  
  
Yes, for a Mudblood, she's pretty compassionate.  
  
You may learn something from her.  
  
_"Damn, Malfoy, you're tense," he heard her mumble, and she massaged his neck, her small hands accurate and precise.  
  
"No shit, Granger," he muttered and her hands moved to his shoulders, massaging them lightly.  
  
"How long have you not been able to sleep?" she asked, her hands working wonders.  
  
Draco didn't lift his head from his opened book, but responded, "three weeks."  
  
"How much did you have last night?" she asked, drilling another question at him, and stopped momentarily.  
  
_She had rather soft hands…  
  
Damn, I won't speak of it…  
  
She's a compassionate person; I don't think she'd care.  
  
Soft, kind touch…  
  
You'll get over it in the morning, promise…  
  
Yeah, right, conscience.  
  
_Draco, who had enjoyed her handiwork, immediately lifted his head to gaze into her eyes, saying quietly, "Don't stop, I was starting to feel better…"  
  
Hermione's eyes widened, and she blinked at him.  
  
"The-- the question, Malfoy," she muttered.  
  
"I slept for four hours the night before… Now do that thing again, I don't care that you're filthy, my neck just hurts," he muttered, and she nodded, immediately massaging him once more.

...

His own room, no Crabbe and Goyle…  
  
Was that his alarm clock…?  
  
"Malfoy, get up! You're in the cabin, I had to take you here!"  
  
"Granger," he grumbled and slowly opened his eyes.  
  
"Malfoy, you've had eight hours of sleep, so get up," she said, and he sat up to gaze at the girl with frizzy hair.  
  
_She needs to think about a brush…  
  
A very tough one, her hair looks like it might kill!  
  
Or either she just woke up…  
  
Doubt it, she had the same frizz yesterday…  
  
Like first year…  
  
Hasn't changed a bit, either.  
  
_"Granger-- if you did anything to me while I was asleep--"  
  
"It turns out the weight of your hair also causes you headaches," she said casually. "I cut your hair short."  
  
Draco glared at her icily, and glanced at his alarm clock.  
  
"It's two hours until class…" He murmured and eyed Granger curiously.  
  
_See? I told you that you would learn something!  
  
Conscience, now is not the time.  
  
You gained a new emotion, curiosity.  
  
Curiosity killed the cat!  
  
Please, don't think so pessimistically…   
  
_"Aren't you going to be angry with me for cutting you hair?" she asked, and Draco just shrugged.  
  
"What's done is done… Just give me a bloody mirror," he said coolly, and she handed him a handheld mirror from the top of his dresser.  
  
Well, at least he still had his bangs… His hair was short enough, and it actually looked thicker than usual, and it actually brought out some balance with his stony facial-features. His silvery eyes weren't hidden in his hair now, and he nodded, satisfied with what Granger did to him, and handed her back the mirror.  
  
"Not bad for a mudblood," he commented, and she set the mirror back on his dresser.  
  
_You just complemented the way she uses scissors…  
  
So? It's true!  
  
You admit she's good with her hands, as well?  
  
Yes, but I'll never voice my opinions.  
  
_"I suggest you get ready for class and eat, McGonagall won't slack off for you," she said quietly and exited his room, leaving him with a pounding headache.

…

Draco entered the Transfiguration classroom with minutes to spare and noticed Matt, Zabini, Pansy, her new boyfriend, and Granger were the only students there.  
  
It was odd how his schedule changed, because before he only had Potions with the Gryffindors, but now he had two classes with them-- Potions and Transfiguration. There was the obvious lesson difference, but was really different was the seating arrangements. You get to choose whomever you want to sit beside in Transfiguration, and conveniently, no one was sitting beside Matt, so he sat beside his new friend, setting down his book, his wand tucked behind his ear.  
  
"You cut your hair!" Matt noticed, and Draco glanced over at the frizzy-haired girl, then back to Matt, mentally deciding if he should say who cut his hair the night before.  
  
"Yeah, now I can see…" Draco replied, and Matt grinned at him.  
  
"Some people were starting to think you were a girl before you were announced as the Slytherin boy Prefect," Matt said, and Draco chuckled softly.  
  
"Then I would have been the ugliest girl, because of my voice," Draco said, and Matt seemed to be stifling loud and giddy laughter.  
  
"That Granger girl is staring over at us. She seems to be analysing you, Draco, or either she's just mental, because her mind blew up from reading too much," Matt concluded, and Draco nodded, smirking softly.  
  
"Yes, she is very mental, but she's good with her hands," he replied, and Matt goggled at him for a moment.  
  
"You and her--"  
  
"No, she just helped my stiff back and cut my hair for me," Draco interrupted, and glanced around to see that thankfully no one noticed.  
  
"Hmm, I'm going to have to have her cut mine, it's a bit long, isn't it?" Matt said, and Draco shrugged.  
  
"No, when your hair reaches your waist, _then _it's long," Draco said, and Matt couldn't control his insane chuckles.  
  
About a few minutes till the bell rang, the rest of the class scurried in, and Draco was amazed at how peculiar the last 48 hours his life had been.   
  
"This lesson will be very important, especially if you're fairly tired," McGonagall said through gritted teeth, staring pointedly at Potter, whom was fast asleep.  
  
"Mr. Potter, would you like to explain to the class why you keep on falling asleep?" she spat, and Potter stirred, mumbling incoherently.   
  
Draco sniggered from his seat as McGonagall lectured Potter about the importance of staying awake.

…

"Can you believe the look on his face?" Zabini was saying, and Draco nodded vaguely, gazing vacantly into space.  
  
"Yes, you've explained this to me fifty times, Blaise… He was drooling in his sleep… We all know very well you **only **swing that way, but must you constantly remind me?" Draco spat, and Crabbe chortled while Goyle was paying more attention to his food than them.  
  
"Drool turns him on," Draco whispered to Matt, who had looked very confused, but now the boy was laughing so hard Draco was sure he would bust a gut or two.  
  
Draco, who didn't actually like the concept of laughing, gazed up at the sky, watching the swirls of grey and black smoke dance around in the sky.  
  
"It's abnormally dark, isn't it?" Draco asked Matt, who had finally calmed himself down.  
  
"Yeah, we haven't even gone to Potions yet," Matt said, and Draco exhaled softly.   
  
They had Double Potions with the Gryffindors at the end of the day, straight after lunch, when, Draco supposed, they would be able to think straight.   
  
Now in Double Potions class, they had to write details about the world they created and how it's reacting each day. Their only homework was that, and Draco was grateful, but that meant that he and Granger had to write separate entries in the diaries he gave them to record it in.  
  
"Matt, who's your partner in that evil world project thing?" Draco asked out of the blue, and the guy glanced over at him, raising his eyebrows high.   
  
"That cute brunette with dark green eyes… Why?"  
  
Draco glanced over at the Gryffindor table and watched Hermione chatter animatedly with her friends, and he finally found the girl Matt was talking about-- she was talking with a Patil twin.   
  
"Hmm, you like Gryffindors? They're much too goody-goodie for my tastes," Draco commented, and Matt sighed deeply.

...

Draco was dreadfully bored, and he headed for Potions class, knowing he wouldn't be late for another five minutes.  
  
"Malfoy?"  
  
Draco glanced behind him at Granger and merely nodded.  
  
"Yes, Granger? Have you got anything to say to me? I've only talked good about you the last couple of hours," he spat, shoving his hands into his pockets. Granger walked beside him, her frizzy head hanging.  
  
_Damn it, did I mention something wrong?  
  
You were spiteful when you said that…  
  
Oh? Shit…  
  
Yes, exactly…  
  
Bullocks…  
  
_"Malfoy, I just wanted you to know that all the rumours about us have stopped… I was wondering if you knew who was starting them, so I could tell the Headmaster about it," she said, and Draco pursed his lips into a straight line.  
  
"The Patil twins, that Brown girl, some blond Hufflepuffs, and some of the portraits. No, you can't just banish the people from the portraits away; that would be impossible," he replied, and Hermione scowled deeply.  
  
"For some reason, people see us as acquaintances..." She began, but Draco raised a hand to cut her off.  
  
"They're imbeciles if they think so," he told her icily, "that is just pure rubbish."  
  
"Yes, Malfoy..." She muttered, and he pushed past her to the room, not wanting to be caught with a Mudblood, since now the rumours had **finally **died down.

****

TBC

Hi! Thank you for reading! Now, may you please review? I need to know what people think!


	4. Chapter three

Characters borrowed by: **Perpetual Thoughts and Meaning**

Disastrous Dragon

"Destiny, who cares? As it turns around and I know that it descends down on me. It's just another day, the shame is gone, hard to believe that I've let it go…"- Swamped, **Lacuna Coil**

****

Previously on DD:

__

"Malfoy, I just wanted you to know that all the rumours about us have stopped… I was wondering if you knew who was starting them, so I could tell the Headmaster about it," she said, and Draco pursed his lips into a straight line.  
  
"The Patil twins, that Brown girl, some blond Hufflepuffs, and some of the portraits. No, you can't just banish the people from the portraits away; that would be impossible," He replied, and Hermione scowled deeply.  
  
"For some reason, people see us as acquaintances..." She began, but Draco raised a hand to cut her off.  
  
"They're imbeciles if they think so," he told her icily, "that is just pure rubbish."  
  
"Yes, Malfoy..." She muttered, and he pushed past her to the room, not wanting to be caught with a Mudblood, since now the rumours had **finally **died down.

Chapter three: _Pain Means Nothing!_

"Homework!"  
  
Draco shifted through his parchment and found his diary entries. Hermione was talking with Potter, having already found hers, and Draco decided with chatter with Matt, again.  
  
"Why don't you ask the girl out?" Draco asked him, and Matt shrugged.  
  
"I just did, but she rejected me," he said, and Draco scowled darkly.  
  
"**You**? How? Do you know why?" Draco asked him incredulously, because frankly, he thought any girl would be happy to be with the guy.  
  
"Yeah, she said she was going out with someone else," Matt muttered, and Draco gazed blankly at him before jabbing the brunette girl's shoulder blades. She turned around in her desk to gaze at him expectantly.  
  
"Don't you ever believe in love at first sight?" he asked her and she blinked.  
  
"Um, er," she mumbled, and Hermione gazed over at him curiously.  
  
"That guy beside you would do anything just to get to know you. It's a perfect match, beauty and brains, and what do you do? You push people away, and I know I shouldn't interfere in things like this, but you're retarded. Do you just like to break people?" he spat out, and Matt turned a bright scarlet, burying his head low.  
  
"He was just mean to me, and I don't date Slytherins, especially ones like him," the girl spat out viciously, and Draco glanced over at Matt to see her words only made a single tear stream from his eyes.  
  
"You're blind, completely blind… I bet you're not even going out with anyone, are you?" Draco spat, but the Gryffindor didn't retort back, because Snape had just entered the dungeon.

****

…

"Shut your fucking mouth," Draco called after the gossiping Gryffindor as he walked toward the broom closet with Matt.  
  
"See? I told you; she fucking hates me… I don't want to go in our world now, I'll just make up a fake entry, then turn it in…" He muttered, and Draco sighed, opening the broom closet and walking inside.  
  
"Look, Matt, you're an intelligent person, you can handle her nasty-arse comments," Draco said as he walked calmly to his world door.  
  
"I told her, but she just ignored me," he mumbled, his face contorted in an odd expression, trying to prevent tears from flowing, and Draco touched the head of the rose and opened the door.  
  
"Come on," he called to Matt, and he nodded tearlessly, following after Draco into the light that was actually inviting.

****

…

"Damn, Draco, your world is magnificent!" Matt exclaimed, and Draco smirked, nodding his head in reply.  
  
"You feel better now that you've seen this beautiful place?" Draco asked him coolly, and he sat on the lush green grass.  
  
"A little bit. It's kind of inspiring how there's so much _life _here… It's just startling that this world was made by you and her," he said, and Draco sat down beside him.  
  
"Look, we all get rejected sometime in our lives, we just have to learn to overcome the sadness and live on, because it happens to everyone," Draco said and Matt leaned back and stretched his legs out.  
  
"There are some people that just attract girls, but I'm just not that kind of person," Matt said sadly, and Draco rolled his grey eyes.  
  
"You remind me of myself… How old are you, Matt?" Draco asked him just for the hell of it, because he couldn't think of anything else to say.  
  
"Seventeen like everyone else here," he answered sarcastically, and Draco scowled darkly.  
  
"Damn, now I feel stupid…" He muttered, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Hermione sitting under a tree, paper and parchment in hand.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Matt followed his gaze to the girl, and raised his eyebrows high.  
  
"I don't want to answer," he said icily, Matt shrugged his shoulders, and he sighed.

"All right," he said coolly.

"Why aren't you startled that I didn't answer your question?" Draco spat out, and Matt sighed.  
  
"To be frank, nothing surprises me anymore," Matt answered calmly, and Draco propped his head up with his hands.****

…

Hermione pushed back her frizzy hair from her face, concentrating hard on her diary entry. She had already written this:

__

It's bright and sunny, and everything in this world seems to be alive with feeling and much needed optimism… I saw a couple a rabbits on my way over to this tree, and I never imagined the other animals would be this beautiful.  
  
I'm sketching one of the rabbits for my proof, and there isn't much left to comment about.

But as she finished her sketch of the rabbit, she noticed Draco was gazing blankly into space, his fingers interlaced, and appeared deep in thought.  
  
She wondered desperately what they were talking about, and whatever it was, it must have been something serious…  
  
It was just frustrating that she didn't have good hearing, but she scooped up her things and walked to their cabin, scowling darkly as she heard fragments of their conversation.  
  
"We believe we're right in the way we think…"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes, but forced herself from not to say anything and walked calmly inside the cabin and released a long sigh.

****

…

"Well, she's finished with her report… I should do mine as well, but I just don't feel up to it," Draco drawled lazily, and Matt nodded.  
  
"I know the feeling… I'd rather she not slam the door behind her, though, and she had an odd look in her eyes," Matt said observantly, and Draco closed his eyes slowly, the soft wind kissing his cheeks.  
  
"All Mudbloods are odd," Draco said nonchalantly, and Matt gazed over curiously at the cabin.  
  
"How come your world has a shelter when mine doesn't?" he asked, and Draco placed his arms under his head, getting himself into a relaxed position.  
  
"Our worlds are unstable. If you think of it, then it will just appear," he said coolly, and the wind moved her silky fingers to tousle his fair hair.  
  
"Oh," was all he said, and Draco released a soft sigh.  
  
"A few days ago it was snowing here. Can you believe that?" Draco asked Matt, abruptly changing the subject.  
  
"Like you said, the worlds are unstable… I think you should do some research on World Potions, it will explain a lot," Matt replied, and a large book fell between him and Draco with a small thud.  
  
"Damn, that was convenient," Draco said a bit too calmly for Matt's taste and sat up, starting to leaf through the book.  
  
"Are you used to this?" Matt asked, and Draco glanced up at him.  
  
"Yeah, because we've had this assignment for a while," Draco answered and gazed back down at the book.  
  
"I don't think it's very wise to become used to things, because this is only a project," Matt commented, and Draco shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"Neither I, but I want to make a passing grade," he replied and Matt laughed softly.  
  
"Then why aren't you writing your diary entry?" he asked, and Draco scowled darkly.  
  
"What _are_ you? My conscience?"  
  
"I might as well be, you don't ever seem to show any signs of emotion," Matt said. "Besides, we need paper and parchment…"  
  
Draco gazed up in time to see two rolls of parchment and a set of quills appear between him and Matt.

****

…

Hermione watched the 'life' around her from the brick window of the cabin, her quills and parchment resting on the red couch behind her, only the glass window blocking her from the outside world.  
  
"It seems _so_ real, but it's _not_," she murmured to herself, and raised a petite hand to touch the glassy portal, and saw her mirror image scowling worriedly.  
  
_Why does this seem wrong? What's so different about this place than home?  
  
_"Because this world is not meant to appear real," she answered herself quietly, and inhaled softly.  
  
"Granger?"  
  
Hermione turned around to gaze at Draco and Matt standing in the doorway of the cabin, and she simply scowled darkly.  
  
"I'll be out of your way soon enough," she said spitefully, and walked over to her couch, scooping up her parchment.  
  
"Granger-- stop. We wanted to ask you something," Draco said, and she heaved a heavy sigh before glancing up at him.  
  
"Well, go ask away," she said simply, and Draco crossed over the room to her and sat on the black couch.  
  
"Do you think that this world should be this- Well, realistic?" Matt asked her from the doorway he was leaning against, his kind blue eyes gazing over at the kitchen door.  
  
"No, in fact, I think it's odd," she answered straightforwardly, and Draco leaned back on the dark coloured couch, his grey eyes darker than usual.  
  
"I don't think we should be staying here," Draco said after a few moments, and Hermione glanced over at him.  
  
"What? Are you actually _frightened _of some kind of unknown being here?" she spat out, and Matt walked calmly over to them and rested his elbows on the black couch, standing over it, gazing over at Hermione.  
  
"There might be something here that might be so powerful and malicious that it might harm us," Draco answered simply, and Hermione closed her eyes for a short moment before opening them again.  
  
"No, unless if we dream of something here--"  
  
"I dreamt of it being sunny," Draco interrupted her, and she inhaled shakily.  
  
"Let's get the bloody hell out of here… I don't trust this place," Matt mumbled and Draco quickly stood with Hermione, who shrunk all her things to fit into her pockets and set off outside behind Matt, Draco leading them.  
  
"Do you think Snape would believe us?"  
  
"Matt and I would be more believable to him," Draco replied and reached the door.  
  
As he reached for the rose, he caught sight of some stirring out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"Granger, what did you dream about last night?" Draco asked her, circling his fingers around the rose bud.  
  
"I'm afraid that if I say it, that it would happen," she answered shakily, and Draco glanced over at her incredulously.  
  
"**Now **who is afraid?"  
  
"Draco--" Matt began.  
  
Draco was squeezing the rose, his Quidditch strength against him; he was crushing the rose…  
  
"You crack-pot fool, Malfoy!"  
  
Draco released the rose and turned around to gaze over Matt's shoulder at her, as if he had never seen the girl in his entire life.  
  
"You were squeezing the rose, you looked like you were in a trance," Matt explained quietly, and Draco glanced over at him, wearing a blank mask over his face.  
  
"I thought I saw something," he murmured. "Granger, you try."  
  
Hermione eyed him warily before sliding past him to the door, grasping the rose gently, her dark eyes glazed over.  
  
"I saw it, too," she said before pushing the door open, Draco and Matt following after her.

****

…

"Matt, don't follow us, Snape might give you a failing grade if he finds out… Can you go and stay in your world for twenty minutes?"  
  
"Yes, I can just ignore my partner and actually do my entries," Matt mumbled and ran to a door, but Hermione didn't hear much afterwards, because Draco had dragged her into the hall.  
  
"Tell me what you dreamt about," he forced out the order with gritted teeth, and she raised her eyebrows at him.  
  
"No," she answered and he pushed her roughly into the wall.  
  
"Answer me, Mudblood," he said icily, and she gazed away from him.  
  
"No, just stop glaring at me with those eyes!" Draco gazed incredulously at her, placing a hand under her chin and forcing her face so she had to gaze at him.  
  
"Answer me," he tried again, this time whispering his demand.  
  
"I dreamt that the sun was covered by clouds and that several 'animals' evolved into beasts, and were attacking us… It wasn't very vivid or detailed," she finally replied and he eyed her darkly.  
  
"Are you telling me the truth?" he asked her icily, and her eyes widened in anger.  
  
"How dare you!"  
  
She reached a petite hand up to smack him, and he didn't even wince afterwards, and Hermione wondered for a moment if he actually felt her slap.  
  
"Granger, just answer me," he murmured, his grey eyes stormy, his lips pursed into a scowl.  
  
"I don't lie like you do, Malfoy," she spat, and Draco grabbed her wrists and pushed them high over her head.  
  
"Draco Malfoy **never **lies," he whispered menacingly, and Hermione glared defiantly into his stormy eyes.  
  
"Oh? Really? You lied when you told Snape in 6th year I cheated off of you!" she shouted, and Draco snarled at her, gritting his white teeth.  
  
"You Gryffindors blamed me for that Patil twin's dark green hair, when Zabini did it!" he spat in her face and she tried her best to squirm out of his grip, but he had pinned her almost expertly, and he had enough Quidditch practises that he was stronger than she would _ever _be-- though him being older than her also put him at an advantage.  
  
"Malfoy! Let go of me! We have to inform Snape--"  
  
"Inform me of what?" his drawling voice asked her from her left.  
  
"I would tell you if Malfoy would release me!"  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, release Granger… Granger, breathe normally," he said coolly, and Draco released Hermione's wrists and dropped her to the floor, sauntering over to Snape.  
  
"Granger was going to tell you; there's something evil in our world, something that wants us dead," Draco drawled in pure spite toward Hermione.  
  
"Are you sure?" Snape seemed a bit worried, which only made Draco less cocky.  
  
"Yes, Granger says she dreamt it," Draco replied, "if we dream it, it happens in our world if we sleep there…"  
  
Hermione sat on her legs and rested her head against the wall, and closed her eyes tightly. Her wrists were stinging where Draco had seized her, and she rested her hands on her lap, her frizzy hair sticking to her scalp because of her sweat, and she only had another reason to loathe Draco.  
  
"You create it, and only you can destroy it," he said simply, and Draco eyed his Potions teacher incredulously.  
  
"You mean that you won't help us?" he whispered, his eyes widening slowly.  
  
"No, I won't," he answered simply and walked away from Draco, leaving them alone again.  
  
Hermione winced as an unexpected jolt of pain went through her arms, Draco wandered over in front of her, his towering figure completely shadowing her.   
  
"What kind of beasts were they, Granger?"  
  
"The sort that knows magic, powerful, dark, magic…" She replied and put her hands to her knees, pushing herself up to her feet, and Draco stood back up, still scowling.  
  
"Do you know anything we could use for protection?" he asked her almost hopefully, but she shook her head.

"The beasts will only attack you, and you can't defend yourself from them, because they are fuelled by hate," she replied, a small smile gracing her thin lips.  
  
"This whole conversation is pointless!"  
  
Draco pushed past her to the broom closet and left her in the hall, scowling deeply.

****

…

"I shouldn't have even asked the Mudblood," he said to himself, scowling darkly.  
  
Matt, who was sitting on the steps of his world door, glanced over at Draco and said, "you wanted to know, like I did."  
  
"She said that the beasts would only attack me," Draco said angrily, and Matt scowled.  
  
"Wasn't she an optimistic person?"  
  
"I suppose, but I never want to know my enemies," he replied. "I usually tend to stay around people that enjoy my company."  
  
"I think she hates you, too," Matt said suddenly, and Draco just nodded, unable to think of anything to say.  
  
"I hope she hates me," he finally said and rested his head against his world door, closing his eyes tightly.  
  
"Why? So you can feel better about it all?" Matt asked him, but Draco let out a shuttering breath, moving from the door as if he had been burned.  
  
"That door-- that door just turned flaming hot! It's as if something… Well, I don't know how to put it…"  
  
Matt arched an eyebrow at Draco, reaching his hands up above his head in boredom, Draco gazing incredulously at the door.  
  
"Something was angry at you in that world for hurting the Granger girl, and it wants you to feel the same way?" Matt guessed, and Draco glanced over his shoulder at him.  
  
"Are you a fucking genius hidden in school robes?!" he exclaimed angrily, and Matt shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"No," Matt said lazily, and his fingertips touched the ceiling.  
  
"I suppose you're going to test his theory," her voice said from Draco's left, and he glanced over at her and met her glassy eyes that made him cringe.  
  
"Well, if he's right, then you'll never see me again, and you can chatter all about it," Draco grumbled darkly, his silvery eyes focused on a wall.  
  
"Good," she said haughtily, and Draco just couldn't look at her, because of her eyes.  
  
"Until I meet you in hell, Mudblood…" He muttered before opening the door, his lips pursed into a worried scowl.

****

…

Draco took a shaky breath, gazing around him with pure worry.

"You're not even sad," a deep voice said from behind him, and he turned around and moved from the door to stare at one of the most maddening creatures he had ever seen.  
  
It was either a silvery haired man, or just a fallen angle with tattered wings. The 'man' reminded him of the statue he had used to kill an elf with by accident, because he was sitting on a stump, dressed in all black, a tattered black wing sprouting from the back of his right shoulder, while his lips were pursed into a dark scowl, his long straight platinum hair flowing behind his shoulders. Draco just sensed an air of sadness around this 'man' and he wondered if this was what Hermione created.  
  
"If I believed in what I said, then why would I feel guilt?" Draco spat out, pushing back his bangs from his face.  
  
"I don't think you should be cocky," the man said and slowly stood, his sapphire blue eyes glowering at him, and Draco held his breath, feeling like the man was staring into his soul.  
  
"And why not?" Draco asked, his dark eyes narrowed, his wand clenched between his left and right hand.  
  
"Because the cocky ones are always the one to go," he said coolly, and he reached for his wand that Draco had just noticed, and slowly stepped toward him, brandishing it at him.****

…

"Why did you do it? He's in there right now, probably dying-"  
  
"Good, that's what I want to happen," Hermione interrupted darkly, and Matt glared angrily at her.  
  
"Tell me what he did to you to cause such anguish," Matt said, and Hermione leaned against the wall, resting her head against its cold texture.  
  
"In first year he annoyed the shit out of me… In second year he called me a Mudblood and still continues doing so. In third year I finally got back at him by slapping him, but his father tried to get one of my friends that is a teacher fired, because Buckbeak trampled on him, but I don't think it caused any damage at all, just a few minor cuts and scrapes--"  
  
"Get on with it," Matt interrupted her, his lips pursed into a scowl.  
  
"He just constantly taunts me and brings me down, and even after I talk with Harry and Ron about it, that sickening feeling is still haunting me. I really want to be friends with everyone that would listen to me, but no one ever does! They may pretend to do so, but they always tune me out!" she confessed in one breath, and Matt ran his tongue over his teeth, deep in thought.  
  
"Can't you confide in your best friends? Don't you have a girl best friend that you can confide all this in?" Matt asked her, and she swallowed in spit, her throat suddenly dry.  
  
"No, actually, I don't," she answered, and Matt blanched a little.

****

…

"Harry, do you think Hermione has been acting odd lately?"  
  
Harry Potter's head snapped up; he'd been taking a little snooze under an apple tree, and Ron had woken him. He merely blew up some of his messy black bangs from his bright green eyes.  
  
"Well, she always has her nose in a book," he said sleepily, and his redheaded friend sat down beside him, twitching abnormally.  
  
"Yeah, but she hasn't been that talkative… She's always silent, unless in class, but I just don't think it's normal to obsess about school," Ron Weasley replied, resting his head against the tree while Harry struggled to keep his eyelids open.  
  
"I'd expect she would be a great author, Ron," Harry said, now rubbing the sand out of his eyes.  
  
"But she obsesses over it! I mean, I saw her studying for our NEWTS-"  
  
"Which begin in a week, if you haven't noticed," Harry interrupted him, and Ron bit his bottom lip, looking down, his eyes wide.  
  
"Shit, that's why she was on my case yesterday!"  
  
"Yeah, I thought you already knew. Don't you ever read the bulletin board?" Harry asked him, pushing his glasses up; they were resting on the tip of his nose before.  
  
"No, because I'm rarely in the common room… I'm usually at Quidditch Practise, don't you remember? Oh, don't you think it's odd how it's all-"  
  
"Ron, if you keep it up like this, you're going to fail… The Light is losing; we Gryffindors are its last hope. Don't you remember The Order?" Harry interrupted Ron again, and he let out an exaggerated sigh.  
  
"Yes, Harry, I do, but I can't just give up Quidditch for that," Ron said, and Harry played with his wand, tossing it between his hands.  
  
"Future generations won't be alive to enjoy Quidditch, and even **if **they survive, they would be emotionally scarred for life," Harry said, gazing up at their world's light blue sky.  
  
"Sorry," Ron mumbled, and Harry glanced over at him, clenching his wand with his right hand.  
  
"I wouldn't blame you; hell, I would be enjoying my last year here, too, but I'd rather be alive, instead of only being remembered for choosing Quidditch over life," said Harry, and Ron rested his head in his hands.  
  
"Is that all I'll ever amount to, Harry? The boy that played Quidditch in school and be rejected by the team?" Ron asked after a few moments of silence between them, and Harry shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"You had some trouble in 4th year, but you're actually doing exceptionally well in Quidditch… If the Slytherins make up another song, we'll just strike back with rabid vengeance," Harry replied, and Ron grinned.  
  
"I wonder if they would wait up…" Ron muttered, and Harry shrugged.

****

…

"Wait up, you wouldn't want to hurt me!" Draco attempted to say, but the man slapped him across his face with such hatred and power Draco stumbled and landed backward, sprawled on the ground.  
  
"Oh, and why not? You didn't seem to think about it when you hurt her!" he exclaimed, and Draco's eyes widened, and he rolled around just in time to evade the man's kick.  
  
"But that's different! She beat me at everything, which isn't supposed to be possible!" Draco tried again and stood up with difficulty, clutching his burning cheek, lips pursed into a straight line.  
  
"She was special, simple, and pure, but you taunted her, and she was tainted with hatred," he spat out, and Draco sidestepped to his left, just barely avoiding another fit of rage by the 'man.'  
  
"Mentally special! She's a bloody genius, that I admit, but I didn't think she would ever feel hate!" Draco exclaimed and the man stopped for a moment, though Draco didn't enjoy the fact that he still had his wand.  
  
"Yet you feel no remorse," he said icily, and Draco crossed his arms over himself, scowling deeply, tilting his head to get his bangs out of his eyes.  
  
"From time to time I feel something weird when I throw a random insult about her to her face, but I thought she always got over it," Draco said, the soft wind tousling his hair.  
  
"Do you respect her?"  
  
_What the fuck does that mean? Do I respect her intelligence, or something else? Is he judging my soul? _Draco asked himself, scowling in deep thought.  
  
"I think she's an intelligent person, if that's what you're asking," Draco answered him, his grey eyes glazed over, still wondering if he answered incorrectly that the guy might kill him.  
  
"You aren't lying… Hmm. Do you think she is a pest?"  
  
Draco raised a pale eyebrow at the question, and was lost in his thoughts once again.  
  
"She annoys me sometimes with some pointless arguments, because most of the time I don't understand her intentions," Draco replied, the wind blowing softly on his still stinging cheek.  
  
"Then why do you insult her? Is it really _that _wrong to just be **different**? Is that a crime in your heartless eyes?"  
  
"I don't understand her intentions, or even the way she thinks," Draco repeated steadily, an impassive mask hiding his true annoyance.  
  
"Are you even sure you're human?" he questioned Draco coldly, and Draco just glared daggers at him.  
  
"Oh, then what am I?" Draco spat out, his fingernails digging into his palms.  
  
_Yeah…_

****

…

"Yeah, I don't really think I should confide you in all this pain, but I kind of feel better," Hermione said, and Matt had his gaze focused on the ceiling.  
  
"I kind of have that effect on people," Matt said quietly, and Hermione played with her thumbs.  
  
"Is that why Malfoy is always with you now? To have a decent conversation once in a while?" she abruptly asked, and Matt didn't even glance at her.  
  
"Can you imagine staying around two grunting oafs all day?"  
  
"I could amuse myself by pretending to know what they were talking about," Hermione replied, and Matt closed his eyes with a huge sigh.  
  
"Well, can you imagine doing this for seven years?" Matt asked her, insanely bored.  
  
"I would go insane if I didn't have an intelligent conversation in a while. Great, I'm back to square one," she muttered, and Matt chuckled quietly.  
  
"You should _really _make friends with some Ravenclaws. You can't fall past a fairly decent conversation with one, I even found a friend in a first year," said Matt in drawling tones, and Hermione let her bangs fall over her black eyes.  
  
"I went out with a Ravenclaw. I don't want to chatter with one of his kind," she spat out, and Matt glanced over at her curiously.  
  
"Not all the Ravenclaws are loyal to him, just so you know," Matt said coolly, and Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
"Yes, the Ravenclaw will keep my secret and not spread rumours… Ha, right. I know better than to do that," Hermione replied hatefully, and Matt's eyes widened slightly.  
  
"Do you actually think that everyone is against you? There are some people who would die to be in a good friendship and reveal their real self, even if for a few good hours," Matt said, a bit disturbed that this girl thought so pessimistically.  
  
"I haven't met anyone who would just come and confess all his or her pain freely," Hermione replied, and Matt watched her shift around uneasily.  
  
"Terrible…" He muttered to himself.

****

…

"It's terribly boring here…"  
  
"Exactly," Harry replied with a long yawn, and Ron closed his eyes, leaning against the tree.  
  
"I wonder how Hermione is coping…" Ron mumbled in sleepily, and Harry nodded vaguely.  
  
"Knowing her, she's probably working on ten scrolls right about now," Harry said humourlessly, and Ron opened an eye to gaze curiously at him.  
  
"Hey, what about we visit her? I bet she's outside, trying to contact us now!"  
  
Harry mumbled something that sounded very much like, "bet Malfoy broke her again."  
  
"Well, what are we waiting for?" Ron jabbed Harry viciously on his shoulder, and he bolted up to his feet, his wand clenched in his hands. "Er, ok…"  
  
"Ron, you frightened the shit out of me," he said numbly, and Ron stood to his feet and yawned widely.  
  
"You curse often, Harry?" Ron asked him as they searched for their world door.  
  
"Yeah, well, the Dursleys aren't the best people to raise children… I'm practically on my own, but I've adapted to it, I guess," he replied, shaking his head to get his black bangs from his eyes.  
  
"I just don't think it's right…" Ron said, and Harry shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"Neither I, but I don't think I'd be expelled for cursing… Look, there's the door," said Harry, pointing to a door about a few miles away.  
  
"Great, exercise…" Ron grumbled, and Harry raised his eyebrows, pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.  
  
"Ron, you're _such _a little…" Harry imitated Ron's voice, and Ron couldn't help but laugh.  
  
"Ok, I understand how idiotic I sound," Ron said, and Harry reached the door, while he was still walking dazedly. It turned out, Ron was more sleepy than Harry had been.  
  
"For **once **you do…" He said, and Ron slapped his arm, though he was smiling.

****

…

"I find no comfort in chatting with you," Hermione confessed, and Matt's soft blue eyes gazed into space, a blank expression on his face.  
  
"The same goes for me, but you're the only other person in the room," He grumbled, and she released a soft sigh.  
  
"That's quite true," She deadpanned, and felt Matt's eyes scan her face. "What?"  
  
"I never thought Gryffindors would be this boring," he muttered. "I don't know why I'm still here..."  
  
"Would you rather sit in silence? I would be happy to take a little snooze," said Hermione, and Matt snorted.  
  
"I'm afraid you might snore," he replied, a small smile tugging his lips.  
  
Hermione folded her arms under her breasts, glowering at Matt before opening her mouth to retort, "I suggest you find yourself a friend in one of those other worlds, because I'm not in a favourable mood."  
  
Matt glanced up at the ceiling, trying to find something interesting in the 'broom closet'.  
  
"I think they only used this place for the project so the 1st years wouldn't snog in here," Hermione muttered to herself, and Matt glanced over at her, a pale eyebrow arched.  
  
"Sure," he drawled. "Whatever you say... Good Lord, must you ever be so dull?"  
  
Hermione blew up her bangs, unfolding her arms and brushing her bushy curls from her face, obviously ticked. "Yes, I only exist to torment you and make you bored to tears. My whole purpose is to make you cry yourself to death, and drain you from your body fluids."  
  
Matt released an exaggerated groan, running his hands through his messy platinum locks, closing his eyes tightly, and his actions only caused a perplexed stare from Hermione.  
  
"Joy. A filthy vampire… Oh, no pun was intended," he muttered, and Hermione gazed over at a random door, a blank look on her face.  
  
"I actually thought it was only a myth, or just a little figment of a woman's imagination," she muttered, and Matt opened his eyes to gaze at the dreadfully boring ceiling, which was equally dull as Hermione.  
  
"No… Shit, just stop talking to me, I don't like having decent conversations with Gryffindors," he grumbled, and she shrugged her shoulders in reply.  
  
"I have some sleep to catch up, anyway," she muttered.  
  
Hermione took her wand and pointed it behind her, her eyes a glassy black. "Blanket appero," she muttered, pulled the crimson fuzzy blanket over herself, and settled on the floor, Matt watching her with vague curiosity.  
  
"Smart little Gryffindor," he muttered to himself.

****

…

The man clenched his fingers around Draco's jaw, his sapphire eyes icy.   
  
"You are a heartless boy that was mainly influenced by his mother," he spat out vehemently, and Draco's eyes narrowed in anger.  
  
"I was by her side until she died! I don't consider that being heartless!" he shouted in reply, and the man smacked him, his sapphire eyes a stormy blue.  
  
"And yet you were always tormenting her!"  
  
"I don't need this!" Draco said and pushed the man away from him, his head throbbing because of all the man's punches.  
  
"What are you going to do? Duel me? That's a laugh," he said coldly, twirling his wand between his middle and index fingers. "Such arrogance will be fatal…"   
  
Draco had his left hand in his cloak pocket, his fingers clenching his wand, his teeth gritted together tightly, his eyes a dark black with light grey flecks, the original colour they were supposed to be, but since mother died, his eyes reflected his emotions clearly. His hair hung loose, his platinum bangs covering his black eyes, and his pale face was contorted in pure malice.   
  
"I'll duel you and win, you egoistic fool," he drawled frostily, managing to make his voice harsh and hard, an uncontrollable anger coursing through him.  
  
"We'll see about that, but only once she has ordered me to," he said, and Draco brandished his wand from his robes.  
  
"No, duel me here and now, bastard," Draco barked, and the man gave him an emotionless stare.  
  
"It is not of my choice, boy," he said coolly, Draco's eyes turned a light grey, and he collapsed to his knees. The man put two fingers to Draco's forehead and pushed his head back, forcing Draco to look at him.  
  
"Then why are you buggering me, then?" he whispered icily, and the man smiled thinly at him.  
  
"She allowed me so," He replied. "But I can give you a reminder of your foul deeds."  
  
Draco's eyes widened, and he sat on his legs, moving away from the man with difficulty; his legs were cramped, and the man somehow must have had something to do with that.  
  
"No, just go back to whence you came," he said icily, and the man's left hand somehow found his neck, and his fingers wrenched around him, and he used his right hand to press his fingers into Draco's forehead.  
  
Draco's eyes filled with angry tears, yet the man's fingers did not draw blood as they pushed their way deeper, his other hand strangling him. Draco scratched at the man's hands desperately, needing air more than anything did.  
  
"I'll make you have the worst visions of your life," he whispered and released Draco's neck, and Draco fell backward when he released his head with a sickening crack.  
  
Draco's breathing was laboured and quick, and purple bruises were appearing around his neck where the man had grabbed him.  
  
"You can't make me a Seer, you can't change the course of fate and her bitchy ways," Draco's weak voice was strained, and the man laughed coldly.  
  
"You don't know of my power, do you? I can do whatever I want that involves fate, she just told me not to kill you," He said, and Draco blacked out.

****

…

Harry stumbled forward, his face landing hard on black tile. He heard his glasses crunch from the impact, and blanched as he sat up, and he felt someone pushing something into his hand.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
Harry glanced up and saw Ron standing over him, in his hands a new pair of glasses for him, since his old ones were crushed.  
  
"Thanks, Ron," he said hastily, accepted the glasses with oval-shaped lenses, and stood up hurriedly, glancing around him, trying to get his eyes focused.  
  
He heard a cough to his left, and he gazed over at a curly-haired blonde boy, whose pale blue eyes were focused on him, a pale eyebrow raised.  
  
"Are you that Mudblood's friends? She dreadfully needs someone to talk with, because she confessed a lot of shit to me," He drawled icily, and Ron balled up his fists.  
  
"Don't call her that," Ron spat out, and Matt simply shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"Why should you defend her? You hardly listen to her. She is snoozing in a corner, near her world door, soundlessly… You should ask her something," he said simply, and Harry rubbed his temples, Ron was walking over toward Hermione.  
  
"Why would she confide in a Slytherin?" Harry asked before he could bite his tongue, and Matt merely shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"That I cannot answer… I guess she was so deprived that she had no other choice. Deprived as in emotionally," he drawled and Harry heaved a low sigh.  
  
"That still doesn't explain why she would tell _you _anything and not her best friends," Ron said from the corner, and Harry glanced over at Matt, a curious expression on his face.  
  
Matt's face showed no plausible emotion, and his blue eyes were blank. He was leaning up against the black walls, his platinum hair practically glowing against it, and the sleeves of his robes were rolled up to his elbows, showing a few scars and a green tattoo of a snake's head. He was sitting with his legs crossed, and Harry saw his silver pants peeking from beneath the hem of his robes. His hair was in wild furious curls, which were long enough to cover half of his ears, and Harry blinked before he heard Ron's voice breaking him out of his unwanted reverie.  
  
"Harry, she wants to talk with you!"  
  
Harry glanced back at Ron, scowling a bit before walking over to his bushy-haired friend. "Yes, Hermione?" he questioned her, and Matt's loud chuckles made him glance over at the curly-haired boy.  
  
"The bell signalling class to be over rang two minutes ago," He said and Harry heard Hermione groan from under the bed sheets.  
  
"Shit, that can't be correct…"  
  
Hermione pushed the sheets off her to glance over at Draco, who was sprawled on the floor, several cuts and bruises on his body, his robe ripped in places, and his platinum hair hung over his stormy grey eyes. He was on his back, his chest moving slowly up and down, and Hermione counted about six bruises on his throat.  
  
"God, what did that fucking thing do?" Matt spat out, and Hermione glanced over at him as he sat down by Draco.  
  
"It tried to kill me before it realised its orders," he said in a cracked voice, and Hermione felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She glanced up at Ron, then at Harry, who was staring over at Matt, an expressionless look on his face.  
  
"Let's go," Ron said to her, she nodded, pointing her wand at her blanket, and it disappeared.  
  
Hermione gazed over uncertainly at Draco before glancing over at Ron, nodding her head in reply. Harry blinked as Ron waved a hand over his face, and Hermione stifled a giggle as Harry whipped around, a confused expression on his face.  
  
"You were daydreaming," Hermione said, and over Harry's shoulder, she could see Matt helping Draco to his feet, wrapping an arm around his shoulders for support.  
  
Harry scowled at her; "I haven't had a good day, since McGonagall doesn't let me sleep in class anymore."  
  
Hermione felt an odd pang in her chest as she gazed over Harry's shoulder, her chocolate eyes locked with Draco's haunting silvery ones. She felt guilt, because she knew it was _her _fault he was in this condition. Draco's eyes reprimanded her with unheard words as he passed her, yet his eyes never left hers. Hermione was sure she would have nightmares, but she kept a stony façade over herself.  
  
"Hullo? Hermione?"  
  
Hermione glanced over at Ron, who was gazing at her with concern in his blue eyes. She inhaled softly and replied, "I'm fine, Ron. Let's just go."  
  
Harry had his hands shoved in his pants pockets, and he licked his lips nervously as he walked out behind Hermione, glancing around with wary green eyes.

****

…

Draco could not feel his legs, and his face was numb. He was aware of Matt carrying him to the Slytherin common room, but everything around him was blurred, colours mixing together, faces smudged out.   
  
"Filthy Mudbloods," Matt whispered and the portrait swung open, and he carried Draco inside.  
  
Draco felt Matt sit him down on one of the couches, and he coughed loudly, his throat numb. He knew he would not be able to talk for a while, and he closed his eyes with a cracked groan.  
  
Matt sat down beside him, reading over a Dark Arts book, feeling an odd need to comfort his friend. Matt had no clue how, so just being near him might help a little.  
  
Draco felt a blanket being placed over him about fifteen minutes later, smiled softly, and Matt walked up to the boy's dorms.

****

…

Hermione stared numbly at her breakfast in the Great Hall the next day, her stomach very queasy. She was for once glad her friends were caught up in a Quidditch argument, because she was not admitting her guilt, and heaven knows how bad she was at lying!  
  
She did not feel hungry, she did not have an appetite at all this morning, which was unnatural for her.   
  
Hermione Granger was **not **an anorexic.   
  
She winced as the clapping thunder rang in her ears, and she glanced up at the sky to watch lightening streak the black clouds like bolting highlights.   
  
Mental note: pull up hood before walking outside.  
  
Hermione knew her body would shut down if she did not eat anything, so she pushed some bacon onto her plate, scooping up a few biscuits and nibbling on one.  
  
She forced herself to swallow, because she knew she needed this. She never glanced towards the Slytherin table, keeping her chocolate eyes to the Hogwarts crest on her plate. She sipped a little of her pumpkin juice, and sighed softly as she propped her head with her hands.  
  
"Damn, I'm glad we don't have to play in _that _mess," Ron said, obviously noticing the horrible weather.  
  
"Hufflepuff verses Ravenclaw," said Harry absentmindedly, and Ron shrugged his shoulders in reply.  
  
Ron glanced at Hermione, who was still gazing down her plate, and asked her lazily, "Who do you think would win?"  
  
Hermione's head bolted up, and she met Ron's blue eyes, and muttered, "Dunno, I never cared for Quidditch."

****

…

Draco rubbed his temples as his fellow Slytherins ate/chattered/snogged animatedly, his head pounding with a severe headache, and the thunder was not helping him at all.  
  
He leaned forward into his hand and let his bangs fall over his silvery eyes. He was frustrated that he could not think, and that they had a test today in Charms. Draco **hated **Charms. No, hate was too light of a word… He **loathed **it. Yes, that is an accurate statement…   
  
"You all right?" Matt asked from his left, and he scowled lightly, closing his eyes tightly, trying to relieve himself of the pain.  
  
"Yes, I am fine," he replied, and Matt nodded sceptically.  
  
Matt eyed the untouched food on Draco's plate and drawled, "Sure…" but did not question him about it.

**__**

TBC SOON!

Ah, here we are… Should I continue, or what? I'm working on another story with Draco as a veela, and the emotions are drawn out much better… Eh, whatever. REVIEW MY STORY!!


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